


my hands around your throat and i think i hate you

by Mawg



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Character Death In Dream, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dream Sex, Drug Use, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Other, Strangulation, Violent Sex, Violent Thoughts, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28412217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawg/pseuds/Mawg
Summary: Peter Nureyev gives himself to no one.  But he'd given himself to Juno, and Juno had left.In his mind, he's wrapping his slender hands around Juno's throat and squeezing.———Peter won't deal with his emotions while he's awake so they haunt his dreams instead.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 15
Kudos: 42





	my hands around your throat and i think i hate you

**Author's Note:**

> !!!WARNING PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!!!
> 
> I'm working through a lot lately and some dark fic was definitely cathartic. please please please skip if you aren't at a place mentally to handle violence or dark themes.

Peter woke in cold sweat. He moved only his eyes but was hyper aware of every part of himself. It had been weeks. No, it had been _months._ When would he leave this feeling behind?

His mind still lingered on the half remembered dream of a warm body beside him. He slid in and out of a bone weary sleep that only rooted him in his dreams and memories deeper. 

_He remembered Juno's face on the ride to the hotel from the hospital. He remembered the ride past Olympus Mons to Hyperion… the detective's head against the window. His comms gripped so tight in his hand the whites of his knuckles were all but etched in Peter's mind. He had a bad feeling. He knew._

_He knew Juno had expected to die. He tried to give space as Juno adjusted to the world still existing. To give Juno time to realize he hadn’t died after all. Idiot. Self-sacrificing, martyr-complex, bastard. Peter knew that look. He knew deep down Juno had made those confessions to him expecting he'd die. He made those promises knowing he wouldn't fulfill them._

His eyes stung, the sleep-dryness there dampened by tears. He was waking more solidly. He didn't want this, any of this. He had woken up alone in that hotel, and he had known he would. If Juno wouldn't stay there was nothing he could have done to make him. And he was waking up alone here. Waking up like this only reminded him every time what it would be like the rest of his life. He didn't sleep much lately for just this reason. 

What was _wrong_ with him?

He was the nameless thief. He gave no one himself, his identity, his only weakness. Not even someone special. Certainly not some has-been PI that had too many issues to stay with what was obviously good for him—

Peter choked back a sob and turned onto his side curling in on himself. No. This was… not that. Peter had miscalculated. It was an error. 

And one he could correct easily. Especially easily now that Juno had cut himself out of the picture. 

Willing his limbs and body to wake up fully he rolled out of the soft and luxurious bed he was in, a perk of a stolen card and a stolen identity. 

No one would see Peter Nureyev again. No one.

Looking at the bed, he thought of the detective's vulnerable form in their hotel bed before he had fallen asleep. How they had taken care of each other, how it had been maybe the best—

He blinked away tears again. He couldn't face the world. He was useless like this. There was no need to be up today. It would be better to avoid the whole thing. He took a glass by his bedside. It was close to a neat bottle that he took as well and shook a few pills out of. He swallowed them with a swig of the glass's contents and made a face, but then downed the rest of the glass. A cocktail from the night before, but all the better to let this put him to sleep again. He knew it was a slope he was toeing with no caution, but he needed to kill this feeling.

He slid back under the still warm covers of his bed and lay motionless until he started to doze. In these almost waking dreams he saw Juno beneath him, and all he felt was hate and hurt. But hate and love were two edges of the same blade.

In his mind, he wrapped his slender hands around Juno's throat, and now it wasn't for Juno's pleasure. He experimented with the feeling, where he'd flex, what part he'd dig his nails into. He wanted to choke the life out of this man who had stolen his. 

If Juno hadn't _acted_ . If he had been _honest!_

_What then?_

What would Nureyev have done then? Stayed on Mars with him? Left and somehow been whole without him? No. It was better that Juno had left him. Better to have this hurt to remind him, he thought as his dream self choked the life out of the detective underneath him. As this Juno's last rattling breaths struggled out of his lungs Nureyev bent down to kiss him, sucking that last air as he squeezed it from him. "I hate you," he whispered. 

Did he? 

Did he hate Juno Steel? He wanted to. He _tried to_. He hated that he couldn't get over this man who had torn him apart, down to the very fiber of his being. He was vulnerable. Open. 

Even in his dream, even as he wished he could drive a knife between Juno's ribs and into his heart. He needed this death to be slow and intimate. He needed Juno to know what he did. He needed…

What did Peter Nureyev need? And how could he cut it and any feelings for Juno Steel from his life completely?

His thoughts faded and he fell into a deeper sleep. The pills and alcohol took effect making his dream shift and change. He felt soft skin above him and soft kisses to his neck and collarbone. Small tentative bites that made a traitorous unnamed feeling well up from deep in his chest. He reached his hand up into that silky, curly hair and twisted. He still wanted this to hurt. If he could go back he would hurt Juno. He’d take his own pleasure instead of taking care of his lover. His Juno. His—

His _nothing_ . Juno was nothing to him. A raw wound until it scabbed. And it would. Soon. He needed this. A reminder. A thief did his best work alone. He was _alone._

His anger was muffled and his thoughts became blurred and soft. He kissed Juno's ear, his temple. He moaned as Juno moved his attention to his chest, as Juno's stomach rubbed against his hardening cock. He wanted this, and he wanted more. He saw himself, almost out of body, rut against Juno and felt his hand come up to his mouth, sloppy and spit slick as he then reached down to loosely fuck both of them together in his grip.

Desperately. Messily. 

Not like their first time, this wouldn't be soft. This was rough with just barely enough pleasure. Juno's breath lost any steady cadence it may have possessed before and Peter knew he was close already. Peter kissed him, licked into his mouth and felt his palate, his teeth. He tightened his grip, and slid against Juno's cock faster. He pulled Juno's tongue into his own mouth and bit. He felt warm blood and tasted it immediately. Copper and rage. And he loved it. He was high on this. He pulled away to mouth at the stubble on Juno's jaw. He moved down to that sensitive spot between jaw and ear and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the spot before he bit there as well. Hard and unrelenting, sinking down and feeling the sudden give as skin tore to let him taste blood again. In his dream Juno didn't gasp so much as he let out a guttural sound of pain. Peter ran his tongue along the wound, sucking a harsh bruise there. He felt Juno's dick twitch hard against him as he came into Peter's fist and across his abdomen. 

Peter moved down and bit hard again at the junction of Juno's neck and shoulder. He didn't care that Juno writhed and gasped in overstimulation. He felt the soft sore flesh between his teeth and couldn't get enough. Like he could devour Juno and be done with him. 

All he wanted was to inflict pain, but Juno in turn tried to return the bite but softer. Always softer, damnit. Even in his misery, his hate, he couldn't change that about his memories of the man. He brought his free hand to Juno's face to stop him but Juno kissed it, and Peter felt disgusted. 

Softness, care, _love._ No, this was all guilt. Nothing more. He slid the hand down to Juno's neck, felt in this new dream for the pulse there, and gripped hard, making Juno cough for air. It was a strange, sudden sound. He took the moment of surprise to gain control. He pushed him back, straddled his hips, brought both hands up and gripped. His hands still slick with come wrapped tight around Juno's throat, making a mess of the smooth dark skin there. At some point he had closed his eyes. He made himself open them and saw a look of helpless hurt and confusion. Why?

_Why?_

What did this Juno, this fantasy, this revenge, this dream do to gut him like this? It spurred him on even more, and he saw the face beneath him grow dark and flush without oxygen and blood.

He kept on till he felt Juno thrash beneath him, trust finally faltering. Yes.

Exactly how he felt. Left, betrayed, and alone

That's what he knew though, alone was how he worked best. It was when he was his strongest. Why depend on others when they were unnecessary radicals? 

The struggle slowed and he let go with one hand shifting back. He still ached with how hard he was. He slid his hand, sore from holding tension, between their bodies and ran his fingertips along Juno's cock. That could apparently still pull a shudder from the detective. Desire flared in him hot and twisting, like a wrung cloth. He gripped his own cock this time rough and frantic. He pumped himself harder as he saw Juno's eyes start to glaze over. Then he felt the unmistakable rising tightness in his core, and knew he was close. He needed this before his traitor died in his hands. Beneath his body. 

He fucked into his fist erratically crying out as he came in jerking halted motions across Juno's chest. A chest that was no longer moving. And in his dream he wept.

When he woke again it was dark. He found himself with wet eyes, but surprisingly clean sheets. His face was damp and his eyes burned. He felt cool, fresh tears run down his cheeks as he remembered everything– his dream, his feelings, and his betrayal all over again.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his comms went off in the empty silence of the room. He scrambled to answer it.

"Is this Peter Ransom?" The voice full of haughty authority asked curtly from the line.

"It," Peter cleared his throat and tried not to sniff back tears, "It is. Yes.

"Good. I've reviewed your proposal and could really use a man of your skill set on my team. The only thing I lack is a reference. Anyone who can vouch for you. Someone you've worked with before, perhaps. I realise the difficulty of someone known as the ‘Nameless Thief’ providing a solid reference but I trust you will do your best, darling." She sounded nonchalant.

Peter froze as what he needed to do dawned on him. There was only one person who could vouch for him like that. Only one person that actually knew him. It would be a risk yes, but what criminal in their right mind did reference checks? "Yes, let me think… Perhaps you've heard of one, Juno Steel? He’s--” Peter bit the tip of his tongue to not let emotion tinge his tone. “He’s a PI— or was. On Mars, Hyperion city. I think at the moment he is the only living reference I can give." 

"Excellent. We've actually had our eyes on his assistant for a while now. Contacting him should be very easy."

Peter's stomach dropped. "Contacting him?" 

"Yes. Will that be a problem?" She sounded skeptical now.

"No. Not at all." He put all of the confidence he could muster into his voice.

"Good." The voice from the other line said with some finality. "I run a very specific type of team Ransom, and it is based on the ability to work well with others, I run my ship like a family. Understood?" 

“Yes, Ms. Aurinko. Perfectly.”

“I believe that will be Captain Aurinko to you very soon.” The line clicked off and Peter was left sitting in the dark. He let the comms fall to duvet beneath him and brought his hands to his face as he let himself sob.

**Author's Note:**

> I love any and all comments even just emojis and I if you read through and liked this at all kudos fuel my validation needs and let me know I should keep writing. Thank you so much for getting this far ILU ALL AND I CARE YOU 💜🖤💜🖤💜


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